


Holiday Hell

by stanielthemaniel



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, but we'll see, christmas one-shots, mainly friendship based, or pre-slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 22:46:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16819957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stanielthemaniel/pseuds/stanielthemaniel
Summary: A collection of Christmas one-shots focusing on the losers and their friendship during the holidays





	Holiday Hell

Ben is jerked awake at five in the morning on December first by an incoming Facetime call from Bill. Not unheard of, but Bill usually tends to stick to actual functioning human hours when making social calls. 

After a few beats, worry wins out over exhaustion as he swipes to answer the call, only to be met with a jarring close-up of Bill's face; wide eyes sparkling and large grin fixed in place. 

“Bill? Is everything okay, it's like- like really fucking early.” Ben mumbles, not unkindly, face half smushed into his pillow. 

“Ben! E-everything's great! How c-c-could it not be!” Bill's voice is far too loud for this time of day, camera shaking as his whole body vibrates with apparent excitement. 

“Bill, buddy, I love you but I have no idea what you're talking about right now.” 

“Come on Benny, d-don't you know w-what day it is?!” 

“...Wednesday?” 

“It's December f-first! It's b-basically Christmas! Can't you just f-f-feel it in the air?” 

For a moment, Ben can't do anything except blink at his phone, disbelieving. He loves his friends dearly, would go to the ends of the earth for them, but even he has some limits. 

“Did you honestly wake me up at five in the morning just to tell me the date?” His voice comes out harsher than intended, still scratchy with sleep, but Bill seems entirely undeterred. 

“Oh d-don't be such a Grinch. I don't know h-how you could be asleep on a day like today a-anyway, I've been up f-f-for hours! Anyway, so I'm c-calling because Eddie, Richie, S-Stan and I have a trad-d-dition we do on December f-first every year, and it's just the g- _greatest_ so you gotta get on b-board.”

He sounds so sincere that Ben grins slightly despite himself, still not used to the warm feeling that floods his system at being so easily included in people's plans. “Okay Big Bill, what's this great tradition of yours?” 

Bill's grin gets almost impossibly wider. “It's a s-surprise! Just make sure to m-m-meet us by the bike racks h-half an hour before c-class. Okay, s-so I a-already called Mike, n-now I've told you, next up-- Bev!” 

And just like that, Bill ends the call, plunging Ben's room back into darkness. He sighs to himself, burrowing deeper under his covers as he sets a new alarm on his phone. 

Ben can't even bring himself to feel truly annoyed at being woken up so much earlier than necessary, or at having to be at school a half hour early now. It's just nice to feel like he's truly a part of something, like the group wouldn't be quite complete without him there. 

The ring of Bill's excited laughter still echoing in his ears, Ben slips blissfully back into sleep.

____________

Later that morning finds six overtired Losers standing beside the bike racks, huddled together against the cold, Bill nowhere in sight. 

“Okay,” Bev grumbles, lips moving around the cigarette she and Richie have been absentmindedly passing back and forth. “That dick woke me up at the ass crack of dawn and now he isn't even here. I swear I'm gonna kick his ass, this surprise of his better be _good_.”

“I'm sure it will be, Beverly,” Ben says, voice gentle as he tries to reassure her. 

“Oh, no it's terrible.” Stan's voice is dry as he adjusts his carefully wrapped scarf. 

“Yeah,” Eddie chimes in, teeth chattering against the biting wind. “Don't get me wrong, I love Bill to death. But this- it's just the worst thing ever, I don't even know why I still bother coming.”

Richie lets out a laugh, throwing an arm around Eddie's shoulders and pulling him in close to warm him up. “That's not what your mom was saying last night, Eds.” He throws out a wink, ignoring the boys' predictable protest ( _“Gross!_ And don't call me that!”) as well as Stan's eye roll, before continuing. “Honestly though, what the shit are you guys talking about? This tradition is the fucking best.”

Richie's support does nothing except heighten the others' concerns, and Mike is about to express his doubt when they all pause, hearing the faint sound of music steadily getting closer. 

Just then, Bill comes skidding around the corner on his bike, his phone settled in the front basket as 'Here Comes Santa Claus' blares obnoxiously from the speakers. There's a large Santa hat perched on his head, and a suspiciously lumpy sack thrown over his shoulder. 

“And here we go,” Stan mutters, sounding resigned to whatever holiday hell Bill is about to put them through. 

Bill is panting slightly, short on breath as he clambers off his bike and lowers the music volume. Turning to face the group, he lowers the sack gently to the ground before clapping his hands together. “Alrighty k-kiddos, who's excited!” 

He is met with a sea of dead stares and silence, before Richie lets out a loud whistle. “I am, Big Bill, let's get this show on the road!” He hops up and down in place, looking for all the world like a young child in line to meet Santa Claus at a mall. 

“ _Yes_ Richie! Th-that's the s-spirit! Okay,” Bill reaches into the sack and snatches something out of it, quickly hiding it behind his back. “Prepare y-yourselves children, for I've gone ab-above and beyond this year.” 

Mike snorts out a small laugh at this. “Why does he keep calling us children? I know he's wearing the hat, is he actually supposed to be Santa Claus in this scenario?”

“Hush Mike, the big reveal is coming up!” 

“Sorry Richie.”

“Okay!” Bill gains their attention once again. “Get ready kids. Richie, drum roll please.” 

Richie happily obliges, ignoring Eddie's protests as he drums out a rapid succession of beats against the other boy's back. 

Bill whips the item out from behind his back with a flourish.  
“Ta- _da_!” 

Everyone is silent for a moment. 

Then another. 

Then, Bev starts to laugh so hysterically Mike has to reach over and hold her steady. 

In Bill's hands is a monstrosity of a t-shirt, a plain white scoop neck he has utterly butchered with a print of all the Losers plastered onto the front. Not just any old photo though, Bill has instead photoshopped each of their faces onto a Christmas tree, so that they themselves are the ornaments. Right at the top point of the tree, he's placed an image of Georgie's smiling face (“Because he's a real life angel!”).

He has also somehow managed to pick the worst possible pictures of each of them. Bev and Eddie are both flipping the camera the bird and Stan is mid eye roll. Richie's eyes are closed and his tongue is poking out between his teeth, while Ben appears to be sneezing. Mike is the only one with a decent photo, a cheerful grin and dimples lighting up his face.

Once Bev has calmed down a little, Ben clears his throat. “Bill..what..” He's not even sure what he's trying to say at this point, and feels a wave of guilt wash over him as Bill's face falls slightly. 

“D-d-do you not like it? I made one f-for each of us but I mean.. y-you guys don't _have_ to wear them or an-anything, I know it's k-kinda dumb-”

Richie looks horrified. “Billiam! What the fuck are you talking about, of course we're gonna wear them!” He reaches over and snatches the shirt Bill is still holding limply in his hands, ditching his jacket to pull it on over his floral Hawaiian print. It gives him an odd, lumpy appearance, the collar half poking out the neckline of his new shirt. Richie doesn't seem to notice any of this, grinning proudly down at his outfit. “Y'know Bill, you've really outdone yourself, I think this even tops last year's creation.” 

“What was last year's?” Bev's voice is muffled, her head half inside the sack as she reaches to grab a shirt for herself. 

“Th-the four of us as r-reindeer pulling G-g-georgie as Santa in h-his sleigh.” Bill rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, a smile slowly creeping its way back onto his face. 

“Incredible,” She grins brightly, now wearing a t-shirt of her own. “Bill, Richie was right. This is the best tradition, I'm so fucking on board for this.” 

A blush immediately finds its way onto Bill's cheekbones at her support, and he tries to hide how flustered he is by ducking down to grab the rest of the shirts. 

The others, mostly silent since Bill unveiled his surprise, all accept the gifts he hands over. Mike and Ben, still in slight disbelief that this is an actual thing they're all doing, share an amused look as they don the new articles of clothing. Eddie is grumbling about looking ridiculous as his shirt completely swamps him, falling nearly to his knees. Stan shakes his head, muttering quietly about how he doesn't even celebrate Christmas, but still proceeds to pull the shirt on over his curls. 

When it comes down to it, they're doing this for Bill. He looks so genuinely touched at seeing them all surrounding him in the shirts he created, and there's not a whole lot they wouldn't do to keep that look upon his face. 

There's no denying they look ridiculous. Decked out in clothing adorned with their own faces, their fearless leader wearing a giant Santa hat, they look like-

Well, they look like a bunch of fucking losers. 

And for them, it's perfect.


End file.
